Too Far
by GhostHelwig
Summary: Rated R for sexual situations, violence, possibly objectionable language, and NC 'sex'. Slash Edd & Eddy.


Disclaimer – I don't own Ed, Edd N Eddy and I make no money from this story.  It was written purely for my own perverted amusement.

Rated R for sexual situations, violence, possibly objectionable words, and N/C 'sex'.

Slash – Edd & Eddy.

Too Far

     It wasn't supposed to happen like this.  It wasn't supposed to go down that way.  He was supposed to love me.  Now he flinches whenever I'm around.  If not for Ed, I don't think he'd stay.

     But Ed is here and he loves Ed still, and I am not above using that.  If Ed is all that keeps him here, then I'll keep Ed with me for as long as it takes to earn his forgiveness.

     And he has to know this wasn't supposed to be this way.  He's smart – he has to know I didn't mean it.  He has to know it was an accident.  He has to know I'd never hurt him – not again.

     What's his problem, anyway?  I thought he wanted it.  I would never have done it if I thought he didn't want it.  And he knows that.  I mean, he has to, right?  So he knows.

     He knows how sorry I am.  He knows.

     And he'll forgive me.  He always does.  He'll forgive me.  He has to…

     Right?

     It was Kevin's fault, as usual.  He threw the party to announce his engagement to Nazz (and don't think I don't know he's only marrying her because he knocked her up), and he just invited us so he could gloat.  He knew how Ed, Edd and I used to feel about her.  All the kids in the cul-de-sac liked her, even Sarah, I think.  Well, not Rolf, actually, but Rolf only ever liked Kevin.  The way he used to bend over backwards (literally sometimes, I hear) for the arrogant little… but I'm getting a bit off-track.

     So anyway, it was Kevin's fault; it was his party, and he served the alcohol.  If I hadn't gotten so drunk on the stupid beer none of this would've happened.  But I did, and I was feeling mighty fine after a while.  Then Kevin comes up and starts ragging on me, and it's all 'dork' this and 'dork' that until I want to punch him in that square jaw.  But I'm not stupid, so I don't.

     And then I see Nazz in this low-cut red dress that I find myself thinking she should enjoy wearing now 'cause in a few months it won't fit her anymore.  Now, I don't think I know people very well, but even I can see that Nazz isn't really happy anymore.  I don't think she wants to marry Kevin.  But her parents want her to, and she's a good girl, so she will.  But she doesn't like it, and it shows.  She's changed.  We've all changed.

      But I know Nazz has changed the most, 'cause she comes over and starts flirting with me.  Heavily flirting, too, real dirty stuff.  In my head I know she's only doing it to piss off Kevin, but my body doesn't care about that – all my body knows is that Nazz Richmond is pressing up against it, and it feels _good._

     She's all over me (see, childhood self, you always knew that would happen one day, and you were right!  Never mind how or why, you were still right!), and I'm really getting off on it.  But then Kevin comes by, and I can tell I'm in for a pounding.  I grit my teeth and wait for it.

     But then Double D is suddenly there, defending me.  My hero, or whatever.  And Kevin, he _listens_, and backs down.  Sometimes in school, Double D could defend me by bribing Kevin with doing his homework (or by not refusing to do it for him), but we're long out of school.  Double D is on break from Harvard, for Pete's sake.  So why does Kevin obey, you ask?

     Well, I don't even know for sure.  But Double D, he's changed, too.  Even before I… well, he's changed.  He's still all 'rules do a body good' and he's still Mr. Clean, but he's also, I dunno… I guess he's almost cool, now.  Not 'cause he's all that different, just 'cause we're older and it's okay to be mature now.

     So Kevin listens, and Double D seems to think this is the best time for a… what'd he call it?  Oh yeah.  A 'judicious retreat.'  Whatever.  All I know is, I'm drunk and horny, and now I'm alone in one of the empty rooms in Nazz and Kevin's new house with one of my oldest friends.

     He's nattering away, probably lecturing me on the evils of flirting or something; I dunno what 'cause I ain't listening.  What I'm doing is thinking to myself that my hard-on should probably get a chance to fade now, since listening to Double D rant ain't exactly arousing.

     But maybe it is, 'cause instead of getting softer I'm getting harder.  It's just, his lips are all wet from his rapid breathing, which is moving his chest up and down in the most interesting way already.  And I find myself wondering if he could use that cute gap of his to give a guy some slightly kinky pleasure.

     Now I know this is all wrong, alright?  I know.  If anyone knew I'd die of shame.  But it's just Double D and me in here, right?  And who's he gonna tell, Ed?  Ed wouldn't even understand.  If he's ever had a hard-on, I don't wanna know about it.

     So I'm all hot and bothered, which isn't as rare a situation around Double D as I'd like it to be.  And Einstein doesn't even notice, he's so caught up in his lecturing.  Stupid Sockhead wouldn't notice my hard-on unless I waved it in his face.

     Which is not – quite – what I intend to do with it.

     I go over to him, and since his mouth is open anyway I decide to stick my tongue in it.  I do, and I'm blown over by the taste, by the hot-wet feel of him.  I imagine what it would be like to feel him giving me head, and I nearly come right then.

     But I want more.  I want to be buried inside him.  I want to claim him.  He was always mine – I realize that when I'm kissing him.  He was mine, and I was just too blind to see it.  Well, I see it now.  And I intend to take full advantage of it.

     I have my clothes rearranged within seconds, driven by wanting him so badly I feel like I'm gonna pop.  Nazz?  Who's Nazz?  Oh, a girl?  Never hearda' them, either.

     I yank at his pants.  Stupid zipper.  Stupid buttons.  Makes it feel like Double D's got lots of clothes on, 'cause it takes so frickin' long.  Finally I got 'em down enough to be gettin' on with.  Or should I say gettin' it on with?  God, I still crack myself up.

     So anyway, he's ready, and I'm ready.  Now, just to be explainin' something, I ain't ever been with a guy before, so I never heard of lube.  Didn't know what it was, didn't know we needed it.  But I know now, and if he'd just… well, whatever, on with the story.

     I pulled his legs up, got him on my hips.  Now, if you ever saw Double D when he was a teenager you know he ain't big, and he's not much different now.  But the whole cool, against-the-wall thing looks easier in the movies than it actually is.  And when I finally started to push in him, it felt so good, but he was suddenly too heavy, and down we went.

     I'd been kissing him, but when we fell I focused on rearranging us instead, so I could quickly get back inside his tight, hot heat.  He said something, and he sounded kinda funny too, but I was so focused on my goal I didn't even hear him.

     I kissed him again as I pressed inside him.  The pleasure!  I thought I'd faint or die or something.  So much pleasure has gotta be a sin.  And I'd only ever felt that sinful pleasure when inside him.

     I know what you're thinking – you're in college and you were still a virgin, Eddy?  You?  Impossible.  Girls must've been clamoring to have you!

     And yeah, they were.  But I'm, uh… selective.  Yeah, that's right.  Selective.  And hey – they're only community college girls; I could get better ones.  I'm just… waiting for the right time, that's all.

     Maybe after this thing with Double D blows over I'll-

     Oh, who'm I kidding?

     Anyway, I slid inside him and it was _good_.  Mind-blowing, one could say.  And I think it was a little too good, 'cause I came a lot faster than I wanted to.  Double D hadn't even come yet.  So once I came down from my haze of sated pleasure I figured I'd help him, y'know… anything for a friend.

     But I looked at him, beneath me…

     And he was cryin.'

     I didn't get it, but I figured maybe he was all emotional, 'cause it was him and me.  He's so _sensitive_.  So I told him, "hey, Double D, chill, man," 'cause I just didn't know what else to say.  And his eyes opened and he glared up at me like he didn't even know who I was.

     In a cold, cold voice he said, "get off me."

     I got off him.

     He continued glaring as he drew his shirt down over his ribs – hadn't realized I'd pulled it up, when had I done that? – and moved to pull his pants back up.  And that's when I noticed it.  The blood.

     It was all over the floor where we'd been goin' at it.  Something in my face must've shown my horror, 'cause he looked where I was looking.  And then his face scrunched up like he'd been socked in the gut, and he started to cry again.

      "Hey…" I whispered.  "Come on, Sockhead, don't get all weepy on me now."

     If anything, he just cried harder.

     "Come on," I repeated, moving closer, prepared to put a friendly arm around his shoulders.  "We can talk, just stop crying-"

     "Get away from me!"

     His scream was so loud I'm amazed no one came to investigate.  I guess the music at the party was just louder.  But I heard him well enough.  I stopped.

     And now I was starting to get pissed.  We'd just shared something really intimate, and yeah, so it was short, but I was gonna make it up to him until he started to freak out like he did.

     "Geez," I groaned.  "What's your problem?"

     "My _problem_?"  Someone should really tell Double D that when he gets all high and shrill like that, it raises his voice a few octaves.  Of course, I'll never tell him, 'cause I don't want him to stop.  I think it's hot.

      "My problem, _Eddy_," I hate – no, I love – when he says my voice like that, all annoyed, "is that you have just…"  He searches his mind for a minute, as if he can't quite find the right word.  Then, he does.

     "You've just raped me on Kevin's floor!"

     Wait a minute.  _Raped_?

     Double D's hat _is_ too tight.

     "I didn't _rape_ you," I finally say.  "That wasn't rape, Einstein, we were just-" 

     "I think I know whether or not I've just been raped, _Eddy_!"

     And with that he's sobbing again.

     Now despite what some people think, I do have a heart, and its breaking as I watch Double D cry.  The whole rape thing may be ridiculous, but he's obviously upset about what we did, and that just isn't right.  I move to hold him, and he pushes me away.

     "Don't touch me!"  He's not loud this time so much as panicked.  I feel for the guy.  I do.  He must be even more in the closet than I am, to be so upset.

     I reach for him, and he recoils.  By now he's shaking like a leaf.  I can hear him muttering under his breath, and I lean closer to hear.

     "Twelve percent of rape victims are male.  Attackers are usually in pairs or more when victim is male, and are more likely to be unknown by victim.  Usually used as a way to dominate or subjugate victim.  Sexual gratification is not usually the point, merely a means to an end.  Probably the product of an Alpha-male dominated society."

     I don't want to set him off again – his eyes are still huge and dilated and wet and red – but I have to ask.  "Double D… what're you doing?"

     He jumps, shocked, like he'd forgotten I was there.  Maybe he had.  He looks up at me, and we both suddenly forget my question.  I want to kiss him.  I think he wants to hit me.  But I still want to kiss him so bad…

     "C'mon, Double D," I say in my most cajoling voice, "it wasn't that bad, was it?  I was gonna get you off, but then you freaked, and…"

     The hurt look on his face makes me trail off.  "You don't get it at all, Eddy, do you?" he whispers, and I bristle.

     "Of course I do!"  A moment of silence, then: "Get what?"

     He sighs.  Now _I_ want to hit him.  But I don't, just like I didn't kiss him when I wanted to.

     "You just don't understand," he says softly, with more tenderness than I know he thinks I deserve at the moment.  "I would've…" he chokes off, looks away.  Only then can he continue.

     "I would've given you everything.  Anything you wanted.  I was yours."

     He meets my eyes squarely, and the fire I see in his dark irises is both new – and unwelcome.

     "I was yours," he says again, "until you took me."

     So that's it.  Double D thinks I raped him, and no matter how many times I say I didn't he won't listen.  He's convinced he's right, and he can be stubborn.  But I'll make him see the truth one day.

     I mean, he wanted me, right?  He admitted as much.  And I wanted him, too, so I don't see what the big deal was.

     I guess I shouldn't have been drunk.  But that was Kevin's fault, like I said.  And Nazz was the one who got me all horny and worked up.  It wasn't my fault Double D was there, and so sexy and hot, that was his fault.  So I'm blameless here.

     So why does he always look at me like I'm not?


End file.
